


I Walk The Line

by XoXLexLoveXoX



Series: The Legend Of [4]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Attempted Rape, M/M, Violence, claimers, road to turminus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-03-01 09:20:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2767913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XoXLexLoveXoX/pseuds/XoXLexLoveXoX
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Road to Terminus setting. After the governor's final assault on the prison, the group is left scattered and broken. Daryl struggles with his moral high ground after joining a group that calls themselves the claimers. Finally accepting that his love and family are gone, Daryl ventures down a darker, more twisted path. That is until he is reunited with some old friends. Daryl POV</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Walk The Line

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing

~I keep a close watch on this heart of mine  
I keep my eyes wide open all the time  
I keep the ends out for the tie that binds  
Because you're mine, I walk the line~

He couldn't be sure how many days it had been. The distant smoke of the once proud prison that they called home billowing into the heavens with horrific crys. A war was waged that day and while they had succeeded in killing Phillip, that persistent bastard they once called The Governor, they had still lost. In the end, no one had won.  
Daryl was defeated when he and Beth fled the smoldering rubble and realized that everyone was already dead. The shock and sorrow that came with losing a loved one came full frontal when the two ventured around the perimeter in search of the others. As the minutes turned into hours and night began to engulf the land, the hunter realized that this would not be like when they lost the farm. Try as he might, he couldn't find a single clear sign that anyone but them had stepped out alive. This time, there was no regrouping. Everyone he came to care about was gone.  
And now even Beth.  
Watching those headlights carry away the last person he considered family had finally shattered the cracking glass that was Daryl's spirit. Broken and defeated, he had laid out in the open, unprotected and vulnerable. Though he had barely heard the sounds of people approaching him, cutting through the fog that settled in his mind, he could find no will to grasp his weapon. He was a fighter, yes. But he was a fighter for others. He needed other people to protect in order to fight so fiercely. Now that it was just him, he scarcely had the energy to even look up as six pairs of boots encircled him.  
'You'll be the last man standing.' Beth's word circled in his mind as one of the pairs of boots approached him. Though the man in front of him spoke, the hunter couldn't process a single word that was said to him.  
'I need you, Daryl.' Rick's distant memory cascaded with the gentleness of Beth's sentiment.  
They were speaking all around him now, about him, closing in.  
'I can't go with ya' man. I can't.' His brother's pleas joined into the swirling mess.  
The man in front of him reached out a hand.  
'You're a part of that family.'  
'You're every bit as good as them. Every bit.'  
'My family is right here! And back at the prison!'  
'Like it or not, we're in this together.'  
The chaos raging in his mind exploded when he felt the man in front of him graze his shoulder. Standing to his tallest height, Daryl wisped himself up, reflexes landing a blow directly to the man's nose and using the time to swipe up his crossbow. He took aim, false confidence and strength making him look menacing and dangerous.

That had been days ago. While he carried on, he felt like an empty shell. His body was on autopilot, braking down to bare survival instinct. There was no rhyme nor reason he followed this ragtag group. He simply didn't care. As far as he was concerned, he himself had died on that prison yard with his friends. Even as he watched the poor-sap who tried to frame him, getting mercilessly beaten to a pulp. He listened mindlessly to the sound, a mantra reverberating through his empty skull, as the last bit of life was taken from the man. The only thing reminding him that he was alive were the occasional ghost, guilting him for his failure. Each time he let his eyes rest he found himself reliving a life he didn't think he could miss. The happy memories of being caged within the prison walls, tormenting his every sleeping moment. The worst of all were the ones of Rick. The man who handcuffed his brother to a roof and eventually made him realize that he didn't deserve the abuse that Merle bestowed upon him. The man who looked to him in ways that no one ever did before. The man who scrapped his sorry ass out of the dirt and gave him a reason to carry on each day.  
The man who gave him purpose, who showed him the real man that he could be. Who showed him love and trust, something he had never truly experienced in his life. Fleeting memories would work their way into his mind late at night. Flashes of stolen kisses between him and his leader. The loving eyes of baby Judith as the hunter rocked her gently in his arms. The laughter shared between him and his group members. The nights he and Rick would spend in their cell, legs intertwined and raspy breath divided amongst them.  
The group had known for some time now that there had been something else beside brotherly love going on between them. Instead of judging or attacking them for it however, the group had been supportive. Happy for them even. Being a man of action rather than fuss with words, Daryl had never brought himself to say 'I love you'. He didn't want to unless he was sure. Didn't want to because feelings are a fragile and easily expendable thing. He wasn't even sure what love felt like. What made it real.  
But he knew now. Knew that he had been a fool for not saying those three words before Rick was gone. He now knew that he had, in fact, been in love with Rick Grimes. Because now that he was gone, he felt nothing. The loss had cast him out, with nothing left to hold onto.

The Claimer's, as they called themselves, were tracking a man who attacked them a few days ago, killing one of their numbers. With no care as to what they did, Daryl followed them blindly. He ignored the stares he received from them, some in desire, some in disgust, as they made their way. They had settled down for the night, setting up their precautions in a circle around an open fire in the woods. They had found a recently turned up trail, leading away from the attack scene, that seemed promising. They had decided to continue on the trail in the morning. That is, until they heard the sound of near by travelers. The group packed up, Daryl opting to sit this one out and stay behind.  
"Sounds like it ain't my probl'm." He had dryly stated when asked why he harbored no desire to help them. Joe, their unappointed leader, hadn't pushed the subject, wanting to catch up to the strangers before they disappeared.  
They had just gotten out of sight in the dark shadows when curiosity got the better of him, however. Deciding, like a scared child, to watch the violent mayhem from a far.  
The hunter followed the sound of Joe's enthusiastic voice, "And we thought about turning in for the night on New Years Eve!"  
As he closed in on the scene however, a mixture of 'not being able to believe' and utter horror washed over him, drenching him to his very core. It took him a hazy moment to process the faces of what he was sure were more ghosts. He couldn't comprehend the idea that it was Rick, and Michonne seated between the bloodthirsty men, Carl being viciously drug out of the worn down car parked behind them. The older man had his pistol aimed at Rick's temple.  
"Let's count down the ball, shall we? 10, 9, 8-"  
An old familiar spark cracked within him, reminding him that he was a fighter. A fighter for others. Realizing that they were indeed alive and that he still had a family to fight for, his body sprang into action. He stepped out from his secluded hiding spot, unable to keep his gaze off of the scared look in his lover's eyes.  
"Joe!"  
When he was noticed, it was by everyone. One moment he was a creeping shadow, the next every pair of eyes were following him. He approached the gathering with caution.  
He desperately pleaded with the man to see reason, choosing his words wisely, his tone submissive and guarded, "These are good people. you want blood? I get it. Take it from me, man."  
The proud hunter laid down his weapon, palms facing out so the group knew that he wasn't going to try and retaliate.  
The former sheriff wore a mask of guarded tension, his eyes betraying that he was worried but were obviously attempting to hide just how much. Michonne and Carl were unable to do so however, their fear etched into the fine details of their faces. The group he had been traveling with looked confused, snatching glances between each other in earnest. Joe appeared to be astounded that the man in front of him was willing to give up his life for what appeared to him to be strangers.  
"Now you say, Daryl, that these are good people. Now I think our friend Lue would disagree. I'll have to speak for him of course, seeing that your friend here strangled him in a bathroom."  
He paused to let the statement sink in before continuing, "Now that right there, is a lie."  
As soon as the final word left the claimer's mouth, the group took action. The two who weren't holding his friends advanced on him, one taking the butt of his rifle to Daryl's stomach. All the air left his lungs as he curled over from the impact, his vision going blurry as another blow was dealt to his head. The hunter hoped that he would be able to burden the revenge the claimer's had out for his group. But it appeared their thirsts were craving blood in the new apocalyptic world. The redneck did little to defend himself, praying to a god he no longer believed in, that the new threat would be satisfied with just him.  
The merciless blows ceased for a moment as two pairs of hands hauled him to his feet, slamming his beaten and bloody form against the cold metal of the car. One hand came up to grasp roughly in his hair, forcing him to look back at the scene he wished he knew a way out of. Daryl felt a hand run up his shirt to his chest seductively, another groping his ass in a way that made him feel horrendously uncomfortable. Calloused fingers snaked around his throat, making it hard to breath as he felt the laughing breath of the men assaulting him. Fearing for the worst, Daryl couldn't help but seek out the watery eyes of his lover, trying to convey a level of apology in what he knew could very well be his final moment.  
He had realized before what the admiring stares of his temporary new group had meant. He had witnessed plenty of them before. The hunter just chose to ignore them, planning on splitting from them soon enough. These were men, however, that took what they wanted, when they wanted and guessed that it had only been Joe's words of warning before that kept them from advancing on him in such a way, until now.  
Staggering to catch his breath, one eye swelling and clouding his vision, he tried to be strong. Strong for his family. Strong for Rick.  
He felt the hot breath of one of the men as he leaned in closer to him to whisper, "Fuckin' finally, I've had my eye on yo'r sweet ass since we picked ya' up."  
Daryl watched as Joe prodded the side of Rick's temple with the barrel of his gun, malis lacing his voice "Ya' look nervous there, pal. What's got ya' so worried?"  
The older man surveyed the situation, looking in between his anxious men, and locking onto the stare that he and Rick had yet to pull themselves out of. A moment later and realization came over the claimer's features. One thing Daryl hated about Joe was that he could read people like an open book, including him. The man let his head fall back in a laugh, "Oh no, don't tell me-?"  
Looking intent, Joe pulled back the hammer on his pistol, cocking it back. Daryl couldn't help the wave of panic that flooded over him as he suddenly made a desperate attempt to pry himself from the roaming hands holding him down. "Oh, so its true? The two of ya' a thing? Is that it Daryl?" Joe held the most condescending grin as he met the fiery glare of Daryl, obtaining his answer without verbal confirmation.  
Joe took a hold of the scruff of Rick's jacket, adjusting the angle at which he held his weapon, "Well, I'll be damned!" He let out another amused chuckle.  
"Well than, this jus' gotta little more interestin', didn't it?"  
The voice at his ear continued, "Im'ma take real personal pleasure in fuckin' tha' life outta' ya." He finished with a laugh.  
Daryl gritted his teeth as he watched the older man lean over Rick's shoulder to say in his ear, "Here's how we'll do it than. My boys here, are gonna beat and fuck ye'r boyfriend ta' death. Then ye'r lady-friend. Then ye'r boy." Joe paused between each sentence, allowing the biting edge to sink into Rick's veins, "Then-then I'll kill ya' myself." The older man smiled coarsely down at Rick, gaging his response. When he was met with a stone glare, Joe glanced up at the two men still groping at Daryl's heaving body, giving them a nod.  
Rick couldn't help but flinch as Daryl's head was slammed down on the hood of the car, blood splattering on the unforgiving metal from his open wounds. As he went down, Daryl caught a final glimpse of the horrified looks on his family's faces, silently saying goodbye. The two behind him worked together in pinning him down as one of them positioned himself behind the hunter. The man rubbed enticing circles along his hips and thighs for a moment before snaking his hands around to Daryl's belt buckle. He undid e flap with anxious hands and swiftly undid his pants in anticipation.  
All the while, Rick couldn't watch as Daryl was man-handled before him, shaking with rage as his partner was taken advantage of. The sheriff knew that he would soon be forced to witness the same thing being done to Michonne and his son and the thought blinded him. Rick became desperate as he heard the vile comments being made to Daryl. He stole a glance up at his captor and realized that the one Daryl had called Joe was watching the scene with sick satisfaction. Feeling even more disgusted, he took the older mans distracted state as a window of opportunity. He threw his weight back at the man but was rendered deft when the ring of a shot being fired penetrated his ear drums. The shock of the sudden shot struck everyone. The man looming over Michonne flinched back, unsure of where the shot had come from. The sword-wielder swiftly overpowered the confused man, taking his weapon. The large claimer, who had been busy drooling over Carl, appeared to panic, scooping the boy up and taking him hostage. The two men hovering over Daryl had been distracted as it was, the loud bang setting them into a confused and stunned state, loosening their hold on the hunter. Daryl took the opportunity to wrench one of his arms free from their grasp, swinging his elbow out to sharply jab the one behind him in the throat. Now freed, he spun in place, landing a bone-cracking punch to the other ones face. By the time this was done, Daryl looked up just in time to see the shocking image of Rick wrestling with Joe, before sinking his teeth deep into the older man's neck and ripping out his bloody jugular.  
Daryl shook the trauma from his mind. Now that he had his companions back, he wasn't about to lose them. Doing what he had to, the Redneck tackled the man still gasping for air, taking him with him to the ground. The hunter searches feverishly at the fallen man waist, finding a handgun and unholstering it. He cocked the chamber, and pulled the trigger, aiming directly at the man's abdomen. Daryl got to his feat, swiftly putting a second bullet in his other attacker. He staggered to his feet and he wasn't sure what to make of the sight that met him.  
Rick was currently in a blind fury, blood soaking his face and chest, his partner had managed to separate his son from the large claimer. Daryl stood back in shock beside Michonne who was hugging a terrified looking Carl as Rick violently plunged a knife into the skull of the last offender. Daryl couldn't find any words as his leader repeated the action an unnecessarily gory amount of times, molten red liquid splashing out with each blow. He wanted to stop his lovers rampage but knew that it was no use. Rick needed to take out his anger. And rightfully so.  
Once exhausted from the effort, Rick left his gaze downcast, unable to meet the eyes that followed him. He stood on shaking knees and staggered past them without a word, making his way to collect their belongings and pack them in the car.  
Daryl watched him from behind his unkempt bangs, wanting to comfort him but not knowing how. Instead, the hunter became aware that his pants were still undone. He reached down to fix his belt and noticed how badly his hands were shaking. Once righted, Daryl couldn't help but stare at his palms in utter astonishment.  
The group packed up without any word, unsure of what to say after such a violent and rendering encounter.  
The vehicle didn't work, however no one in their group appeared to want to sleep amongst the corpses that now littered their makeshift campsite. This was more of an excuse, silently given by each one of them. Sleep seemed to be the last thing on each of their minds as they sat silently in the cab of the truck. The group simply needed to cast their eyes away from the scene which could have ended so much worse.  
Dawn couldn't have come soon enough. Rick was the first to exit the vehicle, claiming to keep watch with the growing light.  
It was shortly after this that Daryl couldn't keep the silence any longer. He exited the car to find Rick sitting along the other side, staring blankly into the forest.  
Not knowing how to start a conversation that he would usually avoid at all cost, he decided to wet a rag from their supply and offer it to his partner. He hadn't noticed until he was directly in front of Rick that his eyes were trained steadily on him. "We should save it."  
His voice was rough and full of gravel, Daryl noticed, but he couldn't help but push forward, "Ya' can't see yourself. We can."  
Rick accepted the rag reluctantly, a sliver of appreciation in his eyes. The hunter sat next to him, feeling the weight of the last few days weigh heavy on his shoulders.  
The air was silent for a moment as Rick dabbed the damp rag along his face.  
"I didn't know who they were." Daryl tried, the sudden need to gain a response from Rick overpowering him. He studied the still bloodied features of Rick as he continued, "I me'n, I knew th'y were bad guys. Jus' not tha' kinda' bad."  
Dropping his gaze, Daryl didn't know what else to do. Before he was forced to continue explaining himself however, Rick had gently grasp his chin, bringing their gazes together. There was a moment of silence as the two searched each others eyes before Rick bent forward to bring their lips together. It was a soft and conveying kiss, tainted only by the taste of a dead man's blood.  
It ended too quickly when Rick pulled back and rested their foreheads together, breathing in the air of their reobtained peace. The steel exterior he had built up since last night melted away, the painful joy he felt now showing through his body language as he stroked Daryl's cheek lovingly.  
Rick held his gaze, "Hey, it's not on you, Daryl."  
Rick's cobalt blue eyes held him in a mesmerizing gaze, whole and captivating and so very Rick like. He still couldn't believe that the man, now sharing his body heat as he leaned in close, was really his Rick. "You're here now and that's all that matters."  
Daryl opened his mouth to say something else but closed it again when words failed him. He couldn't escape the swirling haze that settled over him yet again, only this time instead of harsh demons they were angels of grace asking how he had been so lucky.  
It was in that moment that Daryl decided to say what he hasn't been able to before, "I-I love you."  
His leader couldn't hold back the odd mix of passion and fear swelling in his chest. They locked lips again, swirling on a high that only came from the comfort of one another.

**Author's Note:**

> I had a good time writing this one. Hope ya'll enjoyed! Please leave a review if you have time. Thanks again for reading!


End file.
